


Massage

by kabrox18



Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: Don't Ask, Other, i blame koalas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 14:25:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11625450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kabrox18/pseuds/kabrox18
Summary: Shaxx takes a certain Guardian for a night out, and then makes a... request.





	Massage

**Author's Note:**

> look i don't know how i ended up with borderline porn okay  
> gender- and class-neutral guardian for all your needs

It’s been a long day, and Shaxx is feeling the weight of it all resting on his shoulders. Arcite even seems tired, despite the impossibility of such a thing. Maybe a night at the spicy noodle shop that Cayde was talking about, Shaxx needed a nice breather.  _ Maybe  _ with that Guardian that passed by often; they were refreshing and he wanted the banter. 

Once his shift finally wrapped up, he gets all nice and dressed up in his tie and nice shirt and slick shiny shoes, with that  _ rare  _ smile on his face. Tonight was going to be good for him, and he hoped for the Guardian as well.

"I appreciate this, really," he says to them as they meet near the door, taking a long, alleviated sigh as he slides into his chair, his accent thick like that muscular body the Guardian can’t seem to peel their eyes away from.

"Guardian, I must ask about your hands."  
"My hands?"  
"Yes. Can you ah-" he rolls his shoulders; winces, "-rub out a sore spot for me?" The tone carries the very smallest note of teasing. They look down to the appendages, likely flushing under their helm, and shrug.

“After this?” They try, and he nods.

“After this,” he amends. The two of them sit in amiable quiet, talking back and forth about a number of things--Crucible, weapons, and how _very_ annoying one Executor Hideo is. The food gradually vanishes, and Shaxx graciously pays the tab before leading them out.  
“I’ll let you stay with me for a while, to help with that ache.” The Guardian simply nods, and lets him guide them by their shoulder through the narrow streets. They return shortly to his quarters, which are unsurprisingly bare and quiet.

“I don’t come here often. I only really use it to sleep,” the large titan muses, moving away from the Guardian and going to undress, starting with his burgundy tie.  
“You know, I find it interesting that you still wear combat gear.”  
“Call it paranoia,” they reply, and moves to sit on his small couch. More of a loveseat, really. After a moment Shaxx re-appears in more casual clothing--sans shirt. The Guardian can’t help but feel a little surprised, even though they had agreed to this in some form.  
“Let’s get started, shall we?” They only manage a nod, and rub their hands together a bit nervously.

He gets  _ real  _ comfy, and almost as soon as they begin, he lets out a few noises--bastard thinks he's being quiet. But the Guardian can hear all of them.  _ All _ of them. They jolt a bit at the _ lewd _ noise he makes when they find that sweet spot; some kind of drawn moan.

" _ AHHHHHhhhhhhnnn... _ " He grins and shifts subtly, looking over a heavily muscled shoulder to them, cracking one eye open to peek back at them. And that’s when he starts  _ instructing _ the Guardian. Frankly, it’s difficult to say  _ no. _

"More… lower… you can apply more pressure… harder… mmm,  _ there. _ "

        "Make sure to put your hand, _here._ "  
"Go on… you can touch me harder than that, I’m quite _durable_ you know.”

The Guardian is making quite the effort to not get worked up, but it’s near-impossible when the Crucible himself was flirting so goddamn  _ glaringly _ obviously.

“Would it be possible for you to… not do that?” His back--oh, that muscular back--flexes as he pushes up partially to look back at the flustered lightbearer more easily.

“Not do  _ what, _ may I ask?” A vague gesture, hand flapping toward the titan uselessly.

“... _ That. _ ”

“You’ll have to be more specific than that, Guardian,” he says, clearly amused despite his efforts to keep it out of his voice.

“Stop being such a  _ tease, _ ” they blurt out.

“Oh? I’m being a  **_tease_ ** _ , _ you say?” He drops his voice agonizingly low, sitting up to turn, leaning much closer. “I can do so much more than show off my body to you. I can do  _ so very much more... _ ”

“Damn you, and damn your… r-really nice… voice.” They swallowed the crack, and he gave an almost dangerous chuckle. He’s languid as he moves closer, a confident predator with cornered prey. They stammer more half hearted noises, but he quiets them without trying as he moves over them, boxing them to the loveseat. The Guardian’s Ghost tingles in the back of their mind, a distinct  _ what a situation to be in _ welling up.

“Would you like me to do more?” He asked. A nod was all he needed before he got closer, close enough the Guardian could feel the heat radiating off of him. “First, though… No combat gear. I like you with your helmet off, but I’d like it more if you had  _ everything _ off.” There’s a confident  _ everything, you say? _ In the back of their throat, but all that comes out is a mumble of “... _ e-everything? _ ”

“Yes. Everything. Need I speak up?”

“No sir, that won’t be necessary,” the Guardian says a bit quickly. No need for anyone nearby to know about this. Especially with that big, booming,  _ incredible _ voice of his. They mentally snap back, and stare as Shaxx mutters, annoyed, something about  _ Guardians always getting lost in their thoughts  _ and  _ if they won’t do it, I will. _ His hands wander over them, and with a practiced sort of ease, strip them down to the soft underclothes that were standard to all but the most newly-resurrected of Guardians.

“How did you-”

“Know how easiest to take it off? You’ve got Crucible gear on. Should be a given. And besides--this Vanguard gear is nearly identical to my own sets. An interesting choice of mixed armor.” He seems almost pleased, and tosses aside the unwanted articles before refocusing on the Guardian.

The Guardian swallows, and moves their hands up so that they're gripping Shaxx’s biceps.

"Well, let's get to it, Guardian."

\------

The Guardian makes a half-baked attempt at getting up, but predictably, Shaxx growls and pulls them back. His arm is wrapped  _ firmly _ around their waist, and has them quite pinned.

“Not yet,” he grumbles, rearranging them so they’re flush with him again, setting his chin on their head comfortably.

“When, then?”

“...Not yet.” They sigh heavily, but allow themselves to relax again, tired but comfortable, despite the firm denial that’s rolling around in their head. They didn’t go on a date with Shaxx, didn’t help him with a back problem, and  _ definitely _ didn’t spend all night romping with him. No sir, not at all.

Aw, who were they kidding? They enjoyed themselves, and there was nothing wrong with that, right? They gave a little nod of self-affirmation, and Shaxx grunted curiously.

“What are you doing?”  
“Er, nothing,” they said, a bit sing-song. He merely grunted and slid his other arm up and around them.

“Fine then,” he mumbles. “As long as you don’t leave just yet.”


End file.
